Katz and Dogs
by Kendra Luehr
Summary: More often than not, the person who loves us the most is our best friend. Will x Beverly drabbles (feel free to leave requests here).
1. A Katz Person

**A/N**: I've been plagued with one-shot ideas lately, and they just won't leave me alone, so here I am...with yet another WillKatz fanfic. Only this time, this is a series of drabbles. Feel free to add your own suggestions at the end.

"A Katz Person"

When Beverly found Will Graham, he was curled up on the floor in the fetal position, trembling and rocking amidst a shower of broken glass. Upon further inspection, she realized the bathroom mirror was shattered. She would later find that every reflective surface in the house had suffered the same fate.

"Graham?"

He stirred, but did not respond.

"Graham, are you ok?"

Finally he looked up at her, his eyes dim and sad as he sluggishly raised his head. "Beverly," he rasped. "You came..."

It was an odd thing to say. Will hadn't called Beverly and she, in turn, hadn't made any plans to come see him - it had just happened naturally.

"I was in the area," she insisted. There was no need to include that she'd been worried about him, because it was clearly written in the concerned lines on her face. Hell, _everyone_ had been worried about Will after Greenwood.

Now stepping lightly into the bathroom, Beverly was careful to avoid the larger pieces of glass as she approached her fallen friend. She bit her lip. Getting down on bended knee, she touched Will's wrist and received a shock when his firm, strong arms came around her waist.

"Will?"

He gripped at her more desperately. After Beverly had relaxed in his taut embrace, she rocked him gently like a newborn, his sobs catching against her throat as she stroked his hair. After a while, she couldn't tell if the tears trickling down her neck were his or hers.

Trailing her fingers down his back, Beverly furrowed her brows when she saw his busted knuckles. They were bloody with bits of glass embedded in the skin.

"You sure know how to get yourself into some serious scrapes, pal," she teased. Trying to lie him back down, she felt her heart tug when he grasped her more tightly. "I'm just getting some gauze," she assured him.

Will blinked in response, then trembled as Beverly's hand slid down the curve of his cheek. "Ok," he whispered.

With an assuring nod, Beverly laid him across the floor before moving toward the broken mirror. Gingerly plucking glass out of the way of the medicine cabinet, she sifted around a bit before finding gauze, iodine, cotton balls, and a pair of tweezers.

Promptly returning to her friend, Beverly knelt down and brushed the hair back from his forehead. "This is going to sting a bit, Champ, but I figured you're man enough to handle it."

Will gave a worn smile in response. With his head lolling to the side, he dizzily allowed Beverly to pluck the shards from his skin. He didn't even flinch.

"Graham?"

"Hmm?"

"Please say something...you're starting to scare me."

"...Something."

Though Beverly would normally be unamused with this wisecrack, she gave a relieved little chuckle. "You're a smart-ass even when you're completely off your rocker - go figure."

After treating his cuts with iodine, she applied the gauze and leaned back on her haunches. "There," she said soothingly. "All done."

"Thanks," Will mumbled. His eyes slowly opened and closed.

With a deep breath, Beverly shook her head and glanced off to the side. She couldn't relate to Will's experience at Greenwood, but she could relate to his emotions. Fear, guilt, pain, uncertainty, confusion...they were all things she was feeling right now.

"Graham," she gently began, "do you think you can stand?"

"Don't want to."

Disheartened by Will's feeble answer, Beverly found that she finally understood his heartbroken disposition. He refused to look at the mirror because he was genuinely afraid of what he'd see. He thought he was losing his mind - his tenuous sense of reality - and he didn't want to see the monster he already knew was there.

Reaching out and taking Will's uninjured hand, Beverly wondered if she could ever smooth his checkered past...if she could ever give him the hope and strength he so sorely needed.

It had only been in recent times that Beverly realized she cared for Will Graham. He was a delicate amalgam of darkness and light, and yet she loved him - _achingly_ loved him - and wanted to be there to help pick up the pieces. Unfortunately for Will, he seemed to be constantly consumed by his demons.

Gingerly placing Will's head against her lap, Beverly ran her fingers through his hair and listened to the soft, defeated release of his breathing. "Do you need anything, Champ?"

"No...just you," he mumbled.

In spite of her concern, Beverly felt an unmatched warmth at his words. Nobody had wanted to be close to her after her sister's string of murders, so she supposed she was latching onto the one person who could possibly understand. Will didn't care that she had a murderer in her family, and she, in turn, didn't care that he empathized a little too deeply with criminals. In this way, they were good for each other. The problem was Beverly didn't know if her support would be enough. What if she couldn't help him overcome his latest hurdle?

"Bev?"

She looked down in surprise. "Yeah?"

"I think I'm a Katz person now."

In spite of the glumness of their situation, she laughed and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Welcome to the dark side, my friend."

Returning her smile, Will curled up against her and draped an arm across her thigh. As they laid there amidst the glass and pain, both sharing an unspoken communion of calm, they experienced more contentment than they'd ever known.

**A/N**: I wanted to thank you for those who're reading my other Will x Bev story, "Kismet." Chapter two is still in the works, but things are going very slowly - namely because I keep getting one-shot ideas for these two, and it's distracting me. I figured I should relieve my ideas by channeling them into a separate fanfic. Otherwise "Kismet" would've been too cluttered.

Anyway, if you have something you would like to see written, I'll be more than happy to take suggestions! This pairing doesn't have nearly enough love!


	2. The Breaking Point

**A/N**: I wrote a drabble of Will reacting to Abigail's death, and Beverly being there to comfort him (BECAUSE I SWEAR TO GOD, I DON'T KNOW HOW ELSE TO COPE. F#CK). And yes, it's AU. Let's just pretend that Will isn't about to get arrested. The end.

"The Breaking Point"

Will was lost...adrift.._.weightless. _As he continued to stand on the roof of the Academy, he felt his knees weaken until he sank down to the cold, rough surface. When his backside collided with the roof, he rolled over and found himself lying flat on his back. Blinking up at the sky, his lip quivered. He could see nothing but endless grey clouds and pain - pain that he'd ultimately failed to keep from cloaking Abigail Hobbs.

He squeezed his eyes shut to block her out. Another shudder racked through him, long and deep, but this time he gave a dry sob. To his left, he could hear the door leading from the stairs slowly creak open.

Without opening his eyes, he wearily said, "Don't worry, Jack, I'm not going to jump... I just figured I'd watch the clouds."

Beverly paused, her hand still on the doorknob as she appraised her friend. His eyes were closed, but swollen, and his brows were etched in a mask of lost fury. She watched him for a moment more, then took a seat beside him on the cold roof.

"Hey, Champ," she softly greeted.

Eyes snapping open, Will looked up at her and felt his heart clench. "W-what are you doing here? What happened to...?"

"Will..." Beverly reached out a hand, her fingers gently entwining with his. "I'm here."

He didn't seem to hear her. Promptly removing himself from her grasp, Will's manner was almost explosive as he lurched off the ground. "You left Abigail alone," he accused. "Goddammit, you left her _alone! _How could you leave her in the morgue by herself? You said...you said you'd stay with her so I could...so I could..." Trailing off, he twitched and almost appeared as though he would strike out with his fists.

Beverly winced from the growling force of his words. Even though she wanted to be a source of comfort, she also wasn't going to stand back and let him accuse her of something that wasn't logical. Eyes narrowing, she snapped, "I didn't leave her alone, Will! Price and Zeller are examining the body, so she's in good hands! You have to stop acting like this is your fault - you couldn't have saved her!"

Will moved to give a vicious retort, but his resolve crumbled. With a shuddery breath, he slumped forward and cradled his face in his hands, furiously shaking his head as he tried to drown out the ugly truths that came infiltrating his mind all at once. He felt Beverly's hands on his shoulders then, but still he didn't move.

"Will," he heard her gently beseech, "Will, listen to me..."

"She's dead," he repeated woefully over and over, "she's_ dead..."_

"And no one else will die," Beverly assured him. "I know you may not believe it, but we're close - I can feel it. And when we nab the guy, Abigail's death won't be in vain."

Will trembled. "You can't promise that...you can't _know_ that'll happen."

"I know you," Beverly softly shot back, "and you'll find the bastard. You always do."

This time, Will allowed her to take his hand.


End file.
